


Tarnished Ideals

by Turboburst



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 22:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17374322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turboburst/pseuds/Turboburst
Summary: An initial setup between two dominant personalities by Megatron to come to an agreement to release some stress.  A rocky start leads to some roleplay and eventually more.





	Tarnished Ideals

I wish I understood how I got myself into these situations at times.  I need to start charging more maybe.  He would never go for it, but maybe it would help prevent me from getting into situations like this in the future.

It’ll be easy, he said.  Nothing to worry about, he said.  I’ve got full faith in you, he said.  Easy my aft.  That’s why I’m currently being shuttled to an outpost to meet that aft in charge of Grindcore.  But, at least it’s not Grindcore.  I’ve heard things about the, cleanliness, of that place.

But still, an outpost?  That’s where I’m being sent to?  Why do I have to meet him at a neutral location, there’s nothing neutral about either of us.  I see no reason why he couldn’t be sent to me.  This is not what I signed up for, I signed up for stealth operations.  One-mech missions.  I don’t need backup, I don’t want backup.  Okay, that’s a lie.  Backup is always nice, especially when my mouth gets me in trouble.  But still.  I did not sign up to be put on missions like this. 

Datapad, where’s my datapad.  Frag it all, I threw it across the room in frustration.  I don’t enjoy being told what to do, and who I’ll do it with.  But oh so Mighty Megatron demanded it.  What I do in my spare time should be mine, why does everything have to be a way to further the Decepticon cause. 

There, there’s my datapad.  Underneath that slagging bench.  Doesn’t look like I broke it.  Shame, next time I’ll hurl it at the wall even harder.  If I lose the memo that means I can abort the mission right?

Target, I mean client.  Damus.  Occupation, head slagmaker in charge of Grindcore.  Technically his title is Commandant of Grindcore Prison.  I guess one mech’s trash is another mech’s treasure.  Likes The Empyrean Suite, a little too much.  Obsession much?  Addictive personality, I can work with that.  Turns into a tank, excellent.  The bigger they are, the more satisfying it is when they submit.

I could always just meet this Damus, decide that we’re incompatible, and call it a day.  I mean, if we’re not a fit, we’re not a fit.  There’s no harm no foul there.

But what if we are compatible, that would make things difficult.  I like my own agency, and while I enjoy my extracurricular activities, it’s not an actual job.  When it becomes a job, it’s a chore.  When it’s a chore, I don’t actually want to do it.  When I don’t want to do it, then I get sloppy.  When I get sloppy, then now I’m disappointed in myself.  This whole situation just sucks Primus’ aft.

“Turboburst, we’ve arrived.”  Frag, didn’t even realize the transport pod had stopped.

“Thank you.”  Time to get this show on the road.  The sooner I deem us incompatible, the sooner I get to leave this fragging pit.

Where are we meeting again?  Some bar at this outpost called The Engex Express.  How, charming.

“Where can I find The Engex Express?”  I should feel bad, but in my stupor I didn’t even think to grab the pod pilot’s name.  I will be sure to get his name before the day is out.

“Enter that outpost, take the first right, third left, fourth right and it’s the bar in the middle of the right hand side.”  Useful, very useful.

“Thank you, I shouldn’t be any longer than 5 Cycles, but hopefully it will be shorter.  If I’m going to need more or less time got a comm line I can get in touch with you at?”

“I was instructed to wait at the pod until you were finished.”  Of course he was.

“Well, if you change your mind here’s my comm link.  Just let me know if you get bored, I wouldn’t blame you.  I’m about to be incredibly bored.”

“Thank you, I’ll let you know if my status changes.”  Sometimes mechs who just fall in line irritate the living slag out of me.  Loyalty is something to be coveted, but insubordination every now and again is an admirable trait.

Alright, off I go.  This outpost doesn’t seem like much at all.  Hopefully I’ll be pleasantly surprised, or at the very least they’ll have halfway decent engex.  Who names their bar something as tacky as The Engex Express, clearly not someone with much imagination. 

First right, here we go.  Lots of little stalls out front, nothing super special.  Looks like mostly peddlers, all Decepticon faction.  Makes sense, wouldn’t want to be meeting at an Autobot outpost.  And most factions aren’t exactly welcome in neutral territories.  Lots of energon goodies for sale here it would appear, and religious artifacts and trinkets.  Typical.

Third left.  There aren’t as many peddlers here, more shop fronts though.  I have to go four more blocks from here, then it’s on the right hand side.  This area definitely looks like more of a black market, I wonder what sort of toys they might have for sale here.  I wonder if there’s anything new I can pick up for my arsenal.  It has been a bit of time since I’ve treated myself to a new toy or two.

Fourth right, and I’m assuming it’s the stop with the tacky neon sign.  The Engex Express.  Yup, that would be it alright.  Can’t mistake that for anything else.  And I wonder how empty it’s going to be at this hour, in the middle of the day.  Last thing I want is to actually be one on one with him, in the middle of the day, in a neutral territory.  Although, looking at the area and how close it is to Grindcore I’m beginning to doubt it’s true neutrality.

Well, the windows are blacked out, can’t see worth slag inside.  I’ll bet this place has a tacky bell or door chime when I open it.

_Ding!_ Tacky door chime it is.  And, it’s virtually empty.  A couple Cons sitting at the bar, and nobody at a table yet.  I’ll take a table, this place looks exceedingly sticky.  Just what I wanted, next time it’s my turf or bust.

There, back right corner.  That’s an empty table.  I can keep an eye on the door and I can keep an eye on every patron in this, establishment.

“Can I get you anything?” The medium sized blocky Decepticon in front of me asked. 

“A cleaner establishment.  How many health code violations have you failed?  You know what, don’t tell me.  A glass of energon wine and maybe we can discuss the state of your bar after my meeting.  What’s your name?”  I’m doing the thing again.  Taking unnecessary control of a situation and asserting dominance.  But I guess that’s what I do isn’t it.

“W-we only have Red Label Engex or Nightmare Fuel.” His person already seems to be shrinking before me.  Pathetic.

“Red Label then.  And preferably a clean glass.  And you forgot to tell me your name.” Slag this outpost.  Maybe I’ll put in a bid for this place.  At least avoid the health code violations.  Try to keep this a place from being where mech’s go to over-energize and waste away in some back alley.

“Shamble.”  Makes sense.  He seems like he’s in Shambles, his bar’s in shambles, this whole place is in shambles.

“Well, Shamble.  Be a good mech and please go get me a clean glass full of Red Label.”

“A-Actually, femme.”

“My apologies, be a good femme and please go get me a clean glass full of Red Label.”

“Yes ma’am.” She listens so fast.  Good learner, maybe we can turn her bar around.  Hopefully I’ll have at least one glass of Engex in my systems before I have to deal with this Damus.  Thanks oh Mighty Megatron.  Great, now I sound like Starscream.  Somehow that’s worse.  But oh would I like to put a gag in that pretty mouth of his and torment those wings.  Wonder if I could convince the trine to an evening of fun.

_Clunk_.  Ah, the engex being practically dropped in front of me.

“Thank you Shamble.  Tell me, is this your establishment?”

“Yes it is.  I used to frequent this spot often in between missions and raids.  When I heard it was in process to being shut down I decided to invest in it.  It’s not much, but it’s the closest thing I’ve got to a home.”  Her optics brighten so beautifully with the memories she’s brought up in her processor.  It’s adorable really.

“Hmmm, well.  After my meeting I’ve got a business proposal for you.  Maybe take this place from a hole in the wall to an actual establishment.  What do you say?”

“I couldn’t, really.  I couldn’t.”

“Oh, you won’t regret this.  No strings attached.

“I just-“ _Ding!_   The doorbell cutting her off.  That big lumbering frame, that must be Damus.

“We’ll continue this conversation later Shamble.  Okay?”

“Uh, okay.” Her nervous glances to the door and EM field giving off a strong feeling of concern?  No, fear.  So she knows who this individual is.  But she’s a bit of a nervous one anyways, so I’m not sure how well I can go off her field specifically.

“You must be Damus, pleasure.”  Big, hulking, and purple.  That’s the best way to describe this beast of a mech in front of me.

“Please, have a seat.  Would you like a drink?  Shamble over there only has Red Label Engex or Nightmare Fuel.  You look like you could be a Nightmare Fuel kind of mech.  What can I get for you?  My treat.” Nothing.  Stoic.  Boring.

“Look, just have a seat.  The faster we talk this out, the faster we can both go back to our respective comfort zones.  Hey Shamble!  Can I get a glass of Nightmare Fuel for my friend over here?”  Shamble is quite cute, watching her scurry around is amusing.

“Come on Damus, at least humor me with conversation.  Your mask covers your face so I can’t get a read off you that way, and you’re very efficient in dampening your EM field.  It’s the least you could do since Megatron decided we should meet.”  Tough quiet guy.  Either that or he’s irritated about this meeting just as much as I am.

“I will humor you, for a time.  I think until our engex is finished shall be sufficient time.” He’s got quite a lovely voice.

“You know, for someone who’s playing all big bad and scary.  You’ve got quite an amazing voice.  So tell me, is what they say true?  Smelting pools, inhibitor spikes, and the Empyrean Suite.  Any particular reason why you like smelting pools?”

“It’s an efficient way to eradicate multiple obstacles at once.”

“Genocide basically, yeah?  And what about the materials left behind, do you just dump it or are you reusing the, what would you call them.  Raw materials?  Meltings?  Liquid Cybertronian?”

“We melt them down to their sentico metallico in order to create more M.T.O.s.  It’s quite efficient.  Take some Autobots or defected Decepticons, pop a bunch in a smelting cool, collect the sentico metallico, then mold that into loyal soldiers.  Brilliant really.”  There’s a mech I want to drag out.  A proud one.  And he’s very proud of what he’s doing at Grindcore right now.

“And what of the Empyrean Suite?  Why that one?”

“A song that celebrates Primus and the Citadel of Light?  A song that glorifies an omnipotent deity?  Who could believe in a god that would allow them to die in such a horrific way.  Fitting, don’t you think?”  Watching his optics brighten behind the mask is, unnerving to say the slightest.  But he hasn’t touched his Nightmare Fuel yet.

“So, is this an attempt to mock their faith?  Or is it an attempt to make them feel completely hopeless and abandon their faith at a time that faith would be their only escape?”  This Red Label tastes awful.  It might be burning a hole through my glossa.  Or at the very least maybe my fuel tank.  But everything enjoyable has a price in life.

“Both.  Plus it’s also a way to drown out the screams of the prisoners.  Do you know how distracting it is to work when all you can hear are screams?”

“Well, in my line of personal work.  Screams are either a very good thing for me, or that’s what a gag is for.  But I guess it would be costly to have to build so many gags for your line of work.  And then having to rebuild them after every smelting session.”  I may need a second glass of Red Label.

“Damus, you’re not drinking your Nightmare Fuel.  Would you prefer a glass of Red Label?  Or are you enjoying our conversation so much that you’re avoiding touching your drink.”  I want that mask gone, but looks like that’s not going to happen.

“I tend to stray away from such indulgences.  They’re not great for productivity.”

“Says the one who does not believe in a god.  Who do you have to answer to?  You only get one life, and I see little reason to hold back on indulgences.  Pit, I said one drink but I’m enjoying your company so much that I might have to order a second drink.”  Addictive personality, but just what is he addicted to exactly.

“So Damus, what do you do for pleasure?  What do you like to do in your free time?  What gets you off?”

“What’s it matter to you exactly?  There are a many things that are pleasurable.”

“I deal in pleasure.  And I think that it’s a given right now that I’m supposed to find what pleases you and work towards using that to help relieve future stress in order to improve job proficiency.  At least that’s what Megatron said.”  Why is everything a mind game with him.  Not that I don’t enjoy mind games.  But, sometimes an easy client is appreciated.  However, this one is slowly changing my processor.

“Transformation.  I enjoy transforming between modes.”  He’s just messing with his drink.

“Transformation?  But that’s such a monotonous and unexciting daily event.  Elaborate please.”  I’m going to need another drink.  I’ve never met someone who actually derives pleasure from transforming.

“Have you ever done something so perfect, that it’s just pleasurable?  Maybe with a client of yours?  Had a session go so perfectly that you could get off with no extra help?”  Ah, so he had done a little bit of research on me.  I should have known better.

“A former client may have caused something similar.  How would transformation wind up in pure pleasure though.  That’s not something I’ve ever encountered with my, numerous, clients.”  Slag, my glass is empty.  I’m definitely going to be needing another.

“Think of it this way.  Everything falls into place so perfectly and seamlessly.  You might be able to compare it to having every last node in your valve stroked at the perfect rhythm.  Just the right amount of pressure, and maybe even the perfect texture for stimulation.  Everything lining up in just the right way that you can’t help or even prevent your pleasure from oozing out.”  His voice is definitely something else.  I’ve heard that he’s capable of rendering machinery and even beings useless or defenseless with just a touch.  But that voice is something else, there’s something terrifying about his tone.  It’s exciting.

“A perfectly orchestrated overload.  But you said it ever so more eloquently then I could.  Would you like to have your drink Damus?  I see you’ve not even touched it, but I feel as if our game has only just begun.”  Just my sad lonely empty glass on the table.  He might be more physically powerful, and maybe even have an upper hand with his unique ability.  But I’ll be slagged before I let him think he has all the power here.  Not in this situation, not yet anyways.

“You might as well indulge while we are enjoying each others company.  Shamble!  Another round please.”

“You got it!” her chipper voice a complete contradiction to the nervous field she’s giving off.  So adorable.

“So, Damus.  You’ve been with the Decepticon cause for a while.  And clearly you’re loyal, if you look in a mirror anyone will tell you that clearly.  But tell me, why the Decepticons.  Ah, thank you Shamble.  Much appreciated.”

“You’re not the first to ask me that question.  But, it would have to be reading the treatises written by Megatron.  A former friend of mine recommended them to me, and, well.  We see where I am now.  Now what about you.  Why would you join the Decepticon cause.”  His optics brightening behind that mask of his.  It would be nice to see his actual face, maybe get a bit of a read on him.  But I will not allow him to turn the tables on me.

“What other place would a femme have pre-war other then a brothel.  A social deviant.  Someone who enjoyed inflicting pain for pleasure.  Is there really a place for me in that society?  Where everything is all prim and proper and everything has a function and everything has a place?  Why wouldn’t I join a cause that not only benefited me, but also my interests.  I might have been a being of opportunity jumping onto the ship then.  But, things happen for a reason.  And I wouldn’t change any of my decisions up until this point.  I wouldn’t be where I am now otherwise.  Even if that here is a hole in the wall dilapidated bar.  No offense to Shamble over there.”  Concise enough to give him what he wants.  Vague enough without giving away too much.  Two can play at this game.

“So, why would Megatron give me your data, set up this meeting, and pull me from all assignments until we finally met.  What is to gain by us meeting here.”  The more you drink this Red Label, the less caustic it seems.

“What do you think there is to gain by us meeting, Turboburst?”

“Please, call me Turbo.  I’m not sure, that’s why I asked you first.”  Two can play at mind games for sure.  But getting answers from him is almost like pulling denta unless it’s to talk about his grandiose illusions.

“Well, why don’t we think about what there is to gain.  You’re in the business of pleasure, and I prefer being in pleasure.  You give me pleasure-“

“I’m going to cut you off there.  Before you say something that could be perceived as insulting, you would do well to remember that I am not a simple pleasure droid.  I run a very intimate and unique number of personal relationships with clients who all come to me with specific needs and wants.  Many of which want and need a space where they can give up command, give up power, and be made to submit without any repercussions to their occupations, standings, or even self-worth.  But, when I’m not engaging and humoring my clients I’m out doing the dirty work for this cause with deadly precision.  So, why don’t you mull that over for a moment and then choose your next words carefully dearest Damus.”  He doesn’t like being cut off.  He’s irritated and annoyed.  Pushing buttons is always fun, see what someone is capable before I decide to take them on as a client.  And my processor is slowly changing, he might be a fun one.

“As I was saying before you cut me off.  You give me pleasure in a way only you can, and I can continue to work at a pace that is productive.”  His words were clearly a little more measured and careful.  Not as free.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but reading people is part of my extra-curricular activities.  I appreciate candidness, but all actions have consequences.  Whether those consequences are good or bad depends.  I don’t expect an apology because that’s not a level we’re at.  But I do expect a mutual level of respect.  If not for the reason that we were both sent here to meet by our leader.  And he clearly thinks that us meeting will help further accomplish his vision and the Decepticon cause.”  There, struck some sort of cord.  Something in my processors remembered that he is completely loyal to both Megatron and the Decepticon cause.

“Respect it is.  So why don’t you tell me, Turbo.  What do you plan to accomplish right here, right now.”  Does he want a verbal sparring match?  Or does he want to come to an agreement.  That slagging mask does make things very difficult to read.  But for as much trouble as I’m having with him, I know he’s having as hard a time with me.  I’ve got a couple million years of espionage work on my side.

“This is either going to go one of two ways.  Either we reach a mutual agreement and my extra-curricular activities become muddier since it will go from something I do in my free time to part of my job.  Or, we agree that we’re not compatible with each other and go our separate ways respectfully.  What do I wish to accomplish?  Completion of the mission given to me, one way or another.”  He’s trying to make himself bigger, as if that was somehow possible.  He looks very comfortable leaning back in that chair he’s taken to.

“So, if we were to reach a mutual agreement and continue on with what Megatron thinks we could accomplish.  You get a new client, and I get a chance to indulge myself in pleasure while on the clock technically.  What are your terms and conditions before this conversation just becomes us repeating each other endlessly.”  Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Well, Damus.  I require only a few things.  Total submission, trust, and respect.  It’s not really a big price to pay for the return.  Of course, it would be a relationship.  You submit, I dominate.  You trust, I don’t let you down.  You respect me, I respect you.”  If I lean back in my chair, cross my legs, place one hand across my torso and finally rest my hand.  That’s a powerful position.  Two can play at this game.

“And, what sort of say do I have in the situation?” Typical.  I expected more.

“You’re the one having things done to you.  Why would you not have a say?  Unless I’m meeting you in a battlefield, you get to tell me what you’re comfortable with and what you’re not comfortable with.  Just like I tell you things I specialize in and prefer, and what things I will not do.  Everyone has hard lines Damus, even those in charge.  A hard line is something that should not be crossed under any circumstances.”  Now I have his attention, he’s leaning in.  A fun trick, speak softer to draw them in and bring in their attention.  Like an Insecticon to a neon sign.

“Example, I will not engage in any form of spark play.  It’s dangerous, it can cause unwanted sparklings, and I do not feel is meant as something to be engaged in with my clients.”

“Logical explanation.”

“Let’s talk about you, what would be something you would consider a hard line.  Paddling, whipping, electrocution, gags, sensory depravation, restraints.  What might be something, or some things, that is an absolute hard no for you.”  I would put 100 shanix down that he’ll be against any sort of sensory depravation, gags, and possibly electrocution.  At least electrocution to start, I can probably warm him up to the idea with some time.

“The mask stays.” For now anyways.  He seems so sure that he’ll never be the one putting that mouth of his to use underneath.  Also rules out sensory depravation and gags.

“Color me surprised, most individuals are very eager to try out a gag.  What about physical pain dearest Damus.  Paddling?  Caning?  Whipping?  Flogging?  What sort of painful pleasures am I allowed to inflict upon you.”  Maybe Megatron was right, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea to meet with him.

“No caning, no whipping.  We can try a paddle, and maybe a flogging.”  Simple enough.  Start off soft and work our way up.  That mask though, that’ll have to get off eventually.  I want that mouth of his.

“Restraints?  I’ve got several different options.  Stasis cuffs, chains, or cable are preferred favorites.  Especially the cable.  I can do just simple restraints to elaborate ones.  But better to start simple and get more complicated as we go on.”  Wham, bam, in the van.  I didn’t think I would actually enjoy this in any capacity.

“What’s the easiest to break out of.” Smug little glitch.  Speaking, that’s why I like gags.

“I prefer my clients to not break the equipment.  It’s costly, but if you want something that will be easiest to remove in case of emergency, stasis cuffs are the way to go.  But maybe as we build more trust, you will find cable to be quite.  Enjoyable.”  I swear to Primus, if that slagmaker exists, if he breaks anything I will be sending Megatron the bill.

“No promises.” Fragger.

“No promises?  So does that mean you foot the bill for any damages or I send them along to Megatron with a failure report.”  That one really offended him.  This is quite a fun game.

“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m confined.”

“You’re going to have to trust me, I will not hurt you in any way you do not agree to.  And that pain will be a direct gateway to pleasure.  Of course we will be taking it slow, you do not want to move too fast, that’s where issues start to arise.”  Somehow I’ve managed to go through my second glass of engex.  Just one glass of engex seems like a pipe dream at this point.

“Would you like a drink from your glass yet?  We’re making such good progress, why stop now right?  I understand you have an energy and persona to present, but I’m not actually doing anything with you so I could care less what’s underneath that mask.  It’s honestly just plain rude to take a drink and not touch it.”  Hopefully this will be a successful power play move. 

“The mask stays.” Or maybe not.  If he’s not going to indulge, there’s no need for me to have a third glass.

“No spark play.  There we go, already reinforcing hard lines with each other as reminders.  Well done.”  At least I can recover from something.

“So, before we have an actual scene, why don’t we try talking through one first.  That way it can prevent any premature breaking of my equipment.  And on a bright side it’ll give you a chance to imagine something happening to you, and if you don’t like the thought then all you have to do is tell me to stop.  But use a safe word.  A safe word meaning a word that is uttered to stop the scene immediately.  This safe word should also be something that’s not something used in regular conversation either.  So something simple like no or stop wouldn’t work.  Make sense?”

“Logical indeed. Do you have a preferred safe word that you use frequently or is it up to me to make one?”  Like an energon treat on a stick in front of a petrorabbit.  I’ve got his interest, now to keep it.

“Either or.  I usually go with Vector Sigma, because why the frag does Vector Sigma pop up in regular conversation.”  Usually a good safe word to have.  That’s something that has no business being in one’s interface life.

“So if at any point I’m uncomfortable, or I want to stop.  I just say Vector Sigma and you stop.”

“Well, yes.  That’s also part of the trust thing.  You’re going to have to trust me that I will stop.  And I will, but you have to let yourself trust me enough to give me that chance.  But it’s not just I stop whatever I’m doing.  You say Vector Sigma and the whole thing stops.  The scene is over, if you’re restrained all restraints get removed, if any interfacing is happening that gets stopped immediately. You get the idea.”  Is that his engine running?  I dare say I might have revved his engines a bit.  But if that’s excitement or irritation I can’t tell yet.  Time will tell.

“You want to run through a scene, verbally, before we try anything physical.” Oh, yeah.  I almost forgot that bit.

“Correct.  The point of this little, exercise, is to lay out a scene and you need to tell me honestly how the things I’m describing make you feel.  Technically using the safe word is not a shut down of our conversation, but of ending that particular scene or action that’s being described.  So if I say that I make a move to remove your mask you say?”

“Vector Sigma.”

“Correct!  Then I rewrite the scene taking a few steps back in order to try something new for a feel.  So instead of removing a mask, I go to nibble on your neck cables.  What do you say?”

“Nothing, that is allowed.”

“Very good.  So let’s begin shall we?”  I’m too excited about this bit.  I’m in control, more or less anyways.  There’s that illusion that I’m in control, but as always it’s my submissive who runs the show.  I’m leaning so far forward that both of my hands are now resting on the table.  Great, very dignified position Turbo.  Whatever, let the games begin.

“First order, I want you on your knees when I enter the room.”

“Vector Sigma.”

“Let me explain why I want you on your knees first.  Yes, it’s an order.  But, look at the height difference between us.  Even on the tips of my pedes I can barely reach your shoulders with the tips of my digits.  How many delicate transformation seams do you have on your chest that I can toy with?  What about the delicate protoform underneath all that armor.  You said nibbling on your neck cables was allowed, but how can I reach them if you’re so much taller than myself?  Make sense?”

“Yes, if it has a functional purpose.  I will allow myself to be on my knees in this situation.”

“Thank you, let’s continue shall we?”  A nod of his head signals my allowance to continue.  How easy it is to get lost in the notion that I’m actually in charge.  I’m only in charge just as long as those I’m with allow me to be.

“So, you’re on your knees when I enter the room.  I will be walking around to begin with and gathering the tools and toys that I want to use.  Your input will be needed, but only when spoken to.  I’ll pull out a few different floggers and maybe a few paddles and will need your response to them.  Yes, no.  You get the point.”  This is why I like having the meet and greet at my place.  I can drag things out and get an instant reaction to their presence. 

“I’m not using any of them, yet.  And if you see them and you’re not comfortable with any of them I just put them back and improvise a bit.  I can have just as much fun without using a flogger.  Simple enough yes?”

“For now, yes.”  Primus, I hope he’s not this monotonous during a session.  I like some animation.  For pit’s sake he’s not even giving off anything on his EM field.  He’s going to be a massive piece of work.

“Let’s say that you saw the different floggers and the different paddles, and you didn’t like any of them.  That means I have something else I want to use instead.  My set of demon nails.  Usually these can be used with electricity for a pinpoint zap.  But they’re also perfect for digging in between transformation seams and picking at the sensitive little wires that lie beneath your bulky tank armor.”  That might have been a minute click in cooling fans.  What was that, electricity?  Or transformation seams?

“So I’ll start with those, they’re nice little curved talons that slip onto my digits.  Beautiful for picking and prodding.  Starting out slow and easy, long slow drags across your armor.  Down your chest, dipping in between seams where possible.  In between treads.  Raking across that interface panel.  Light drags at first, so light that they just send shivers up your spinal struts.  Moving on to deeper drags.  Scratching off some paint, pulling at wires, digging into seams.  Kicking cooling fans into low gear.  Plates separating enough to allow heat and steam to escape your form so you don’t overheat.”  Maybe another glass of red label isn’t such a bad idea.

“Shamble!  Dear, can I get another round please?”

“Coming!” She’ll be screaming that a different way sooner or later.  Distractions Turbo, focus.  Your FIM chip is just fine.  The worst thing another glass will do is burn a hole in my tank.

“Once your plates have separated some, that will allow me access to that sensitive protoform underneath.  Real estate that rarely gets attention, making it extra sensitive.  Long tortuous drags of the claws.  Digging deeper, working meticulously to build up a nice little charge.  Digging into that paint job even harder, scratching down to the primer underneath.  Starting to mix pain with pleasure.”  Distinct whirring from some internal system going.  I can only hope it’s his cooling fans.

“Once you’re all primed up, I’ll introduce a set of stasis cuffs.  Just one, for your arms.  I would prefer your arms to be restrained over your head that way I’m able to get into all those tasty seams.”

“Vector Sigma.”

“Fair enough, tell me what made you call Vector Sigma here.”  Another drink of Red Label was definitely a good idea.  This might be longer then expected.

“Restraints above my head.  I don’t like the position of them.”

“Would behind your back be better?   Or in front of your body be better?  Behind your back would provide better access to your chest seams, but provide lesser access to those treads of yours.  In front of your body would be difficult to reach your interface panel, but would allow me great access to those treads of yours.  Might feel a bit more prisoner like, but to be clear you’re not my prisoner.  If you won’t be comfortable with your arms being restrained above your head, it would be preferred that I can restrain them behind your back instead.  Safer position for you to be in, but still provides me with ample access to other sensitive parts.  Can we try restraints behind the back?”

“I would prefer to be restrained in front of my body.”

“Alright, we’ll continue with your hands restrained in front of your body.”  Red label engex tends to grow on you the more you drink it.

“Continuing with the stasis cuffs.  Hands restrained in front of your body while you’re still on your knees.  Moving from in front of you to behind you.  No need to panic, you’ll know where I am at all times.  I’ll make sure I let you know where I am either by verbally letting you know, physically letting you know, or you’ll hear my heels on the floor to deduce where I’m at.  Like I said, an easy first time.” 

“Continue.”

“Very well, hands bound in front of you.  I’ll continue dragging my talons, raking them across your back.  Digging into those treads.  Picking in between those seams, slowly moving your head to the side to reach at those cables and energon lines.  Moving in slowly, exventing hot air on what’s exposed.  Moving in to nibble and bite.  Drag my glossa from shoulder to jaw.”  Pause for another sip. 

“Down your back along your spinal struts then back up, to following a path from your back towards your chest again.  Now that I’m in front of you I can silently trace the logo on your chest.  Down your chest as far as I can due to where your servos are restrained.  I’m going to eventually want your interface panel to open up and let me have access to the beautiful arrays behind it.”  Definitely his cooling fans going.

“Shall I continue or should we leave the rest up to an actual session?”  Baiting a client is not normally recommended.  But will make sure you have their attention.

“Let’s continue.  I want to see how this plays out”  Well, nobody can claim I haven’t fulfilled my half of the deal.

“I want you to hold your bound arms up so I can get to your interface panel.  Hold them up so I can mess with your interface panel some.  Drag my talons down that interface panel.  Small, slow, meticulous patterns.  Until finally either making you open your panel, or telling you to.”

“Once your panel is open for me to pay attention to, I won’t ditch the claws.  I’ll level my own valve over your spike.  By now your reaction to my ministrations will have me primed and ready for the next phase.  Your arms will be hooked around my neck.  But remember you will need to still remain still until I give you permission, which may not happen, to move your hips.  At which point I’ll have my mouth fully committed to the sensitive spots in your neck, my talons digging into your seams, and the head of your spike in my valve.” Frag, my engex is finished again.  No sense ordering another glass, I’m almost done walking him through anyways.

“I’m not a fan of my subjects speaking normally.  But since the mask is a hard line for you, and subsequently that means gags will be out of the question.  I want you to ask for it, no beg for it.  But if you won’t beg, well then.  No sense in denying myself the pleasure at the very least.  I’ll make sure that we both get a ride worth remembering.  Start slow and steady.  I’ll need to sink myself onto that spike of yours.  Then once I have you fully sheathed in my valve, well, that’s when the fun really starts am I right?” Of course I am.

“Please, continue.  I have yet to call Vector Sigma in a while.” Smug bastard.  Of course.

“Fair point.  Continuing.  You’ll clearly have some form of leverage since your arms will be wrapped around me obviously.  But, my face buried in your neck.  Alternating between licks of my glossa and bites from my denta.  Talons digging into your back, digging along and between seams, along your spinal struts.  All while lifting myself on and off your spike to a dangerous pace.  Only rule here?  You ask permission before you overload.  Understood.”  Less of a question, more of a statement.

“Loud and clear.”

“I’ll make sure I drag it out nice and long.  Very slow to begin.  Completely on, completely off, completely on, completely off.  Eventually picking up the pace.”

“What of your overload then Turbo?”

“Inconsequential.  You’re the one who I need to worry about.  I can handle myself later.”

“And if I want to make sure that it’s just as worth your time as mine?”

“Well then, I guess you better not overload before me.”

“I don’t plan on it.”  I repeat.  Smug bastard.  But if he can please me before I get him off, well then that’s two of us surprised.

“Let’s say that you get me off first.  I get my overload, and now the calipers in my valve are squeezing your spike in such a perfect rhythm.  What do you do?”

“Well, if I recall.  I ask permission to overload otherwise I guess I’m in some trouble.”  At least he’s smart.

“Very good Damus.  You are a good learner.  And hopefully after the first session we can ramp up each session.  I would so like to see you tied and suspended from my ceiling one day.”

“A good dream.  But I think we have reached a mutual agreement and need to set a play date.”  Definitely a charge around his being.  He is so self-servicing later.

“I believe we have dearest Damus.”  I can feel the smug grin on my face.  I have him now.  Hook, line, and sinker.  He might not realize it, but this is the beginning of a long relationship. 

“How does next Deca-cycle sound?”  Oh so he’s telling me what to do.  But I guess he’s a busy mech, I should learn to work around his schedule a bit.  He’ll bring me pleasure anyways.  The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

“That should work beautifully, it shall give me time to make sure that my office can handle someone of your build.”  Now I need to make sure that I can handle a tank sized tantrum.

“Next deca-cycle it is then.”

“I’ll send you the coordinates then, Damus?”

“Indeed, Turbo.”

“Excellent.  I look forward to our next encounter.”

Watching his giant frame sit up and wander out of the bar was something to behold.  I’m still amazed by how such a huge frame can remain so silent and undetectable.  

_Ding._  The bell rings as he exits the establishment.

Regardless, it looks like I have a long and interesting few Stellar cycles ahead of me.  And he’ll be a fun one to break for sure.  And that mask, that’s something I’ll need to get off and behind.  But all in due time.

What is it that Starscream always says.  Time makes all things possible?  That sounds about right.  Time will tell, and soon enough all things will be possible with him.  Now, I believe that I have a bar to obtain and a certain little femme to seduce in the meantime.  And maybe a few things to try out with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this work! It's a work in progress that will have many parts and is for someone who has recently become a friend of mine, Mako. She's helped me understand a character I originally strongly disliked but have grown to like. Real shout out though, she's an amazing artist. Find her on Tumblr with the handle Mako-Doodles. And a happy birthday Mako!


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